


Relapse

by AceOnIce



Series: Under Fire Extra Scenes [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Relapsing, Sad Magnus Bane, Self-Hatred, Supportive Alec Lightwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:50:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26580157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceOnIce/pseuds/AceOnIce
Summary: Eight years after going sober, Magnus relapses.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: Under Fire Extra Scenes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1784620
Comments: 25
Kudos: 100
Collections: Fluff vs. Angst Battle 2020





	Relapse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bidness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bidness/gifts).



> I made this collection to write smut out-takes, but then I had an angsty idea so... here ya go!

It’s a stupid fight. Later, Magnus won’t remember what they were even fighting _about_. It doesn't really matter- it was merely the result of stressful weeks for the both of them. In the moment, however, all Magnus can think about is the anger and hurt swirling in his gut.

Alec is standing across the room, face flushed pink with anger and his voice getting louder every time he speaks.

Magnus can’t be there anymore, can’t take any more of the yelling- Alec's or his own.

He swivels on his heel, ignoring Alec’s frustrated, “Where are you going”, and pulls on the coat he keeps by the door. He doesn’t have an answer and even if he did, he’s too upset to convey it without yelling or crying and he’s desperately trying to avoid breaking down right now.

He lets the apartment door slam shut behind him, heading nowhere in particular except _away._

He needs to leave before he ruins everything. Before he passes the point of no return, before he says or does something that will have Alec running in the opposite direction. He’s lost Alec before, he knows the pain of it and he can’t lose him again. Not now.

The cold of the streets isn’t as refreshing as Magnus had hoped. Instead, the bitter wind simply serves to remind him that he could have been nice and warm and comfortable in Alec’s arms if their night hadn’t gone south so quickly. If he hadn’t reacted so poorly, if he had just kept his calm, if he had just talked things through instead of blowing up.

With the wind nipping at his face, he walks faster, avoiding the gazes of the other pedestrians. He knows he doesn't look good, but they don't have to stare so openly.

Magnus shoves his hands in his pockets, trying, and failing, to clear his head. He can't stop replaying the fight in his head until it spirals into remembering every stupid mistake he'd made in the last ten years. The memories crowd his brain, refusing to give him room to breathe. 

He stops walking when a flashing, neon sign catches his eye. Pandemonium. His club.

He supposes it makes sense he would go there, but now he hesitates in front of it. It’s a tempting sight- a warm, cheerful place full of energetic bodies.

A _club._

Magnus knows he shouldn’t indulge his temptation. He knows he should go home. He should turn around and walk back or call a taxi. He could even call Alec, explain, and ask for a ride. As upset as his fiancé might be with him right now, he thinks Alec would come for him if he was honest.

But what then? Wouldn’t that be showing Alec just how weak and needy he really is? He doesn't want to be the kind of person that will storm out on Alec mid-fight and then demand a ride home. No, he can’t call Alec.

And going home now doesn’t sound like a good option either. It means facing Alec, owning up to his mistakes. And right now- right now he can’t find the strength that requires.

Thinking logically is a hard enough task, but acting logically seems utterly impossible with the current chaos of anger and sadness and fear that are haunting his thoughts. He can’t turn away.

With a sharp sense of self-loathing burying itself in his gut, bypasses the short line outside and enters the club, nodding to the bouncer who responds in kind. Once he’s inside, he lets the deafening music wash over him, drowning out some of the noise in his head. If only it was enough. If only it could make the fear in his stomach, the misery in his chest, evaporate- but there’s only one thing that does that, isn’t there? One thing that he’s not allowed to have- and how is that fair?

He makes his way through the throngs of people, pushing towards the bar. He’s craving the burn of alcohol, the blurry headspace it brings, the peace of it, the way it quiets the feelings that won’t leave him be.

He takes note of the dozens of people around him, all with their own drinks in hand. Jealousy makes his skin prickle. Why do they all get the sweet release of a drink when he doesn't?

It’s been eight years since he last drank, since he last blacked out on a bottle of vodka and had to be rushed to the emergency room. Surely he’s _better_ now. Surely, he can have just one drink without it turning into ten. All of these people can do it. Why not him?

Just one. He’ll be okay with just one.

The bartender is a new kid, someone Magnus has met briefly, but doesn’t know well. He’s grateful for that now when the kid takes his order without question and delivers him a whiskey neat.

The moment the glass is in Magnus’ hand, he’s knocking it back, needing it to take affect as soon as possible. The time for consideration has passed and he’s hit with the _need_ for more.

He orders another before he can truly think it through. All he knows is he needs to quiet the turmoil in his body and mind. Might as well go big or go home, right? And Alexander certainly doesn’t want him home. He’s not even sure he wants to be home. Not when this is so much easier.

Another drink is slid across the bar, into Magnus’ waiting hand and he gulps it down, desperate to feel okay. Desperate to not have to think anymore. Desperate for release. Just... desperate. He stops thinking and orders another drink.

Magnus doesn’t know how one turns into nine- or however many drinks he’d had-, but he knows one drink doesn’t lead to waking up in the hospital.

He knows where he is before he opens his eyes, before he’s even fully conscious. He can hear the beeping of the heart monitor, can feel the IV in his arm, can smell the strong scent of disinfectant. His stomach recoils, but stronger than the nausea is the guilt that threatens to swallow him whole. The familiar self-loathing that’s made its home inside his bones.

His head pounds as he forces his eyes open to take in the blinding white of the hospital room- exactly where he'd expected to find himself.

What he doesn’t expect is to see Alec in the chair beside his bed, curled in on himself, staring at Magnus with red eyes. He looks… horrible, utterly desolate. There are giant bags under his eyes and his hair is wild, likely from running his fingers through it too many times.

As bad as Alec looks, Magnus is pretty sure he looks worse. He’s seen himself after going on a bender before. It’s not a pretty sight.

Alec blinks rapidly when he sees Magnus is awake before he jolts upright, letting out a heavy breath of air, reaching a hand forward to curl around Magnus’. He laces their fingers together, his engagement ring a warm medal between their hands. “You’re awake.”

Magnus clears his throat, wincing when it hurts. Everything seems to hurt. He curls his fingers softly around Alec’s, running his thumb over Alec’s engagement ring. It’s a promise, but it’s one he’s not sure Alec is going to want to keep after this.

Magnus had thought he was finally done. Finally clean, recovered, sober. For good.

Apparently not.

“I’m sorry,” he forces out of his aching throat. The emotion behind his words hurts more than his abused throat. “Alexander, I’m so sorry.” Tears prick at his eyes as the reality of the situation hits him, but that makes his head hurt more so he holds them back. He has no right to feel sorry for himself anyways- not when he’s the cause of all of this. Just another huge mistake he’s made in a seemingly unending string of them.

Alec folds over again, this time closer to Magnus. He presses a kiss to the back of Magnus’ hand, a tender gesture that goes against anything Magnus was expecting to happen. He can only stare with wide eyes as Alec says, “We can talk about it later. I’m just glad you’re awake.”

Alec keeps his head down, but Magnus hears the tears in his voice. It makes his heart ache. This is all his fault. Alec’s pain is a result of his own shortcomings. He despises it, despises himself more for it. It seems this is all he’s capable of, causing himself and those around him pain. He’d hoped he was done with that when he dismantled his crime organization, but it seems it’s an integral part of his personality.

“I’m sorry.”

A desperate, heart-felt apology is all he can manage at the moment.

“I know.” Alec leans back and his face dry, but his eyes are ringed in red. He squeezes Magnus’ hand once more before letting go. “I’m going to get a nurse.”

Magnus nods, cringing when the motion hurts his head. His voice is a whisper when he replies, “I love you,” his heart thrumming with the fear that Alec might not say it back.

Alec gives him a soft, sad smile, but he says the words. “I love you too.”

It’s a small comfort when everything else is crumbling around him.

Magnus talks to a nurse and a doctor and undergoes a psych evaluation, where they determine his actions to be a relapse rather than a suicide attempt, before he’s allowed to leave. By then his hangover has faded, but his body still aches and he’s exhausted. He’s not sure if it's mental or physical and he doesn’t have the energy to try to figure it out.

The drive back to their apartment is spent in a silence that Magnus wants badly to fill. But he doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what he can say. What does someone say after something like this? So he keeps quiet and prays Alec will forgive him. He can’t lose Alec again. He can't be alone right now.

The first thing he does when they get home is take a shower. He washes the traces of old makeup from his face and cleans his hair and the sweat that had dried to his body. He scrubs his skin raw, wishing he could scrub out the memories as easily as he cleans his skin. Even so, he feels a little better, a little more human, by the time he emerges from the bathroom. He pulls on a pair of clean sweatpants and one of Alec’s old shirts, needing the comfort his fiancé’s clothing offers.

He feels a little less like a train wreck by the time he’s done.

It doesn't do much to help the sick churning of his stomach because he knows what he has to do next.

He turns and leaves the closet, heading for his nightstand. Alec is sitting on the bed, a book in his hands, but his eyes track Magnus across the room. It makes a bitter embarrassment take root in Magnus, culminating in the faintest blush that he can feel warming his neck. He carefully avoids meeting Alec’s eyes.

Magnus opens the top drawer of his nightstand. His gun is still tucked away there, beside the lube, but that’s not what his gaze is drawn to now. No, right now he can’t look away from the sobriety chips he’s earned over the years. His hands are shaking as he collects them, piling eight years worth of tokens into his palm. He feels sick in a way that's somehow so much worse than a hangover.

“What are you doing?”

Magnus swallows hard, closing the drawer, still not looking at Alec as he forces himself to admit it, to say the words out loud. “I’m not sober anymore.”

He hears Alec get off the bed, but he doesn’t expect the taller man to step in front of him, blocking his path. “So, what, you’re just getting rid of them?”

“Alexander-”

“Look at me, Magnus, please.” The last word is softer than the rest, almost begging. Magnus forces himself to raise his chin and meet Alec’s eyes. He finds no judgement there, only quiet understanding. “You earned those. And you’ll earn them again. I know you can do this. You’ll make it back. A relapse isn’t a failure.”

Magnus swallows hard because those are the words he needed so badly to hear. He curls his fingers around the chips. “I can’t keep them. Looking at them… it just reminds me how far I got before I-” he cuts himself off before he says ‘failed’. “They’re a reminder that I’m _not_ sober.”

“Then let me hold on to them for you. I’ll learn which ones are which and you’ll get them back as you get sober.”

Alec holds out his hand and Magnus pauses, deliberating. It’s not the worst idea. He’s fully intending on going to AA meetings again, but paying for new chips is an expense that he can bypass this time. He lets the chips fall from his hand to Alec’s. “The silver chip is for twenty-four hours.”

Alec nods in understanding, realizing it will be the first one he'll return to Magnus. He leans in to press a kiss to Magnus’ cheek. “I’m proud of you, you know that right?”

Magnus can’t stop himself from falling forward when he hears that, wrapping his arms around Alec, curling his hands into the back of the other man’s sweater. The tears he’s been trying to hold back for hours finally break free and his body shakes with the force of his sobs.

Alec- his wonderful, caring, perfect Alexander- holds him tight, rubs a hand up and down his spine and whispers ‘I love you’ into his hair until he’s cried himself dry. He forces himself to release the death grip he’d had on his fiancé and takes a step back, rubbing at his eyes.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t-”

“If you’re about to apologize for having emotions, please don’t,” Alec says softly, pressing a soft kiss to Magnus’ hair before moving away to put the sobriety chips in his own nightstand. Magnus thinks back to the first time he'd earned his first coin. Back then he hadn’t imagined he could ever have everything he has now. He’d wanted to go sober, but after seeing the way addiction had ruined his father, he thought it was just a vague dream, something he would never really succeed at. He couldn’t have imagined he would go eight years without a single drink.

Starting over is disheartening, but Magnus clings to the knowledge that he’s been here before and he’d made it out. He can do it again. Especially since this time there are some crucial differences. No withdrawals. No abusive father. Alexander by his side. He can do this.

“I need to find an AA group around here,” Magnus says slowly, settling onto his side of the bed despite the fact that it’s eleven in the morning. He traces a tattoo he'd had done on his hip years ago, a simple triangle, an homage to AA and a reminder to himself. “I can’t believe- I just… I was so _stupid.”_

“Hey,” Alec chides, settling onto the bed next to him. “You’re not stupid. You’re human, you made a mistake.”

Magnus swallows and fiddles with his engagement ring instead. “Why are you being so wonderful about this? You should be pissed at me.”

“Maybe later. But last night, when I got that call- I was so scared, Magnus. I was fucking terrified. I can handle you relapsing, making a mistake, I just, I _can’t_ handle losing you.”

Magnus hates the way Alec’s voice shakes. He turns and closes the distance between them, curling into Alec’s body, as if he could shrink himself down, become a part of Alec, if he just gets close enough. He eventually settles with his head on Alec’s chest, Alec’s arm wrapped tightly around him.

“I won’t make you go through that again,” Magnus promises quietly. “I’m sorry I screwed up, I’m sorry I scared you. I’m going to get better.”

“I know you will,” Alec says with a certainty that blows Magnus away. “You’re the strongest person I know. And, whatever you need? I’m here for you.”

Magnus wonders how he got so lucky. He closes his eyes and lets himself be held, letting the regrets and misery be moved to the back of his mind. He knows he let Alec down, let himself down, but he’s going to do better. He's going to recover. Starting with allowing himself this lovely moment of comfort that feels better than any drunk buzz ever could.


End file.
